Even in white, there is color. This moulin (or mill) is maybe a few hundred years old, but could have formed overnight, too. And there are rich veins of blue, compacted ice exposed as the hole widens. Breathtaking.(Breiðamerkurjökull glacier tongue, near Jökulsárlón, Iceland, October, 2013)

Some time last year, the road by the Radio Club in Colaba was festooned with these. I don’t think I’ve ever needed to use the word ‘festooned’ before but it’s the only one that fits. The little globes are, of course, marigolds – definitely the coolest genda phool collection I’ve seen.

Indians never fail to amaze me. We want to etch our names on every space we can find – “Yes, I was here. I really was. So what if I’m never coming back and that it destroys the serenity, sanctity, authenticity, or aesthetic of where I am. Dude, *I* was here!”
I’ve seen celebs try to talk sense into the junta, I’ve heard academics discussing white boards and pin boards at monuments so people can scribble on those rather than the walls, but this … this is the first time I’ve seen something like this and it’s all over the Hawah Beach area of Trivandrum’s Kovalam beach. Unbelievable!

So the BMC has decided it will now prune trees to prevent stray branches from falling. You know what that means, right? They’re just going to start chopping everything down in sight. My neighboring building society head told me that they’d chopped down the tree between us because “mosquitoes are breeding there”. He claims to be a horticulturist. Who never went to school, evidently. Because in his next breath he also told us it didn’t matter because “Only Tulsi” gives out oxygen, other trees are not important. I nearly slit my own wrists. Maybe these little clay gods will protect this peepul from being ‘pruned’ BMC horticulture style …

I wanted to put up something Christmas-y and I guess I’ve been in a quirkier, lazier mood than usual so this is all I got! Merry Christmas all, from Chhavi Noticed This! and a bloom from my very own balcony “garden”.
It’s the only one we’ve had, although the bougainvillea is drooping with blossoms. Where I lived in Mass. had wonderful soil for roses – there were houses boasting 60-year old bushes that were pretty much knotty, gnarled trees with massive, fragrant flowers. I’ve never been crazy about roses, but these were heady. And then I had a friend who once stopped on the bike path and made this elaborate show of deviating, stopping, and sniffing. I made a point of stopping and smelling the roses every day after that. 🙂

Behind Ta Prom in Angkor Thom, as my fellow travelers meditated on the incredible roots of the trees that have taken over the ancient temple, this fellow came along and perched on me.
I waited for a long time for him to get moving so I could capture how dazzling his iridescent his tiny blue/black wings were – but he flew too fast and in quick bursts which made all the motion pictures totally blurry.
He flew off and came back to perch on my finger three times in total – and I have no idea what made my finger so attractive. But there he was. And I wasn’t complaining about being so favored! 🙂

The monsoon is nearly over and at least one soul in Mumbai is very sad about it. (hint: me!) Today we had a brief burst of rain and it made me happy. The last few days have been disgustingly bright. Here’s a photo from the terrace after the rain, of our wrought-iron garden furniture against the ixora. I love how the drops of water look blue as they swell to unsustainable girth, then plop and shatter, regaining their transparency. I could watch these for hours. Preferably while it’s still raining 🙂 (And I’m singing “Brishti Pore tapur tupur” in my head) (nope, can’t find an mp3 or a video from the movie I’m thinking of.)